Bandages and Bonds
by dairythefairy
Summary: 2017: Auggie Anderson has retired from the CIA, and currently recovering from an eye operation in the hopes that he will regain his sight. Upon his retirement, Langely found one of his previous assets to be a traitor, out for Auggie's life. An old friend is assigned to protect him from this faceless assassin. Will Auggie be saved, and will this friendship grow into something more?
1. Chapter 1

**Hey readers! This is our first attempt at a fanfiction about one of our favorite shows: Covert Affairs! Reviews are definitely appreciated! Enjoy! **

**Our story takes place five years into the future. Auggie Anderson has retired from the CIA and is now undergoing recovery from an eye operation. An old friend has been sent to protect him from a threat that has been made against his life. Their connection could make or break this mission-how deep will their relationship get, and how far will this pair be willing to go to protect it?  
**

Chapter 1

3 months in, and my companions have been the smell of iodine, the ticking on the wall, and the breathing machine of the man next to me. I assume he's a man, he isn't much of a talker. The nurses on the other hand are definitely women, those damn kitten heels waking me every morning.

_Click, click click. _

Here she comes. A new nurse, not very experienced, but she was eager to do her job, and do it well. Her exuberance tended to blindside the patients-if you'll excuse the joke-but her charm would dispel the frustration or impatience of anyone she worked with. For me, it was simple: all she needed to do was bring me my coffee. Which is good for her, because she wasn't much of a talker. The sudden hiss of the shades being pulled, and the warmth of the sun on my face-not that I'd be able to experience the clear, nice day-let me know that she was there. I put a hand over my eyes as if to shield myself from the sun's rays.

"You're lucky I don't have a hangover," I grumbled with mock irritation. With my other hand, I reached for the coffee that was placed before me, the smell of it waking me further. I took a sip, hearing the creak of the wheels of my tray, the nurse busying herself with arranging it in front of me-something that she usually got wrong. I've lost count of how many meals she's had to catch from slipping off the side. She'd only laugh to herself, apologizing quickly, offering to feed me. This morning, surprisingly, she managed to get my tray into place. "So, what's on this five star menu today?" I asked her, with confidence that it will be the daily slop that I've had to endure for weeks. She pulled out the menu book from her pocket with a tiny rustle of fabric. My options were various forms of cooked discs, and seeing my grimace with each one, the nurse let out a little chuckle. "Cheery today, aren't we Piper?" I teased. Her joyous laugh was the only uplifting thing in this melancholy world that I seemed to inhabit. Her answer came with the tap of plastic on my tray. Reaching out, I felt the foil covering of a cup of jello-apple flavored. "I wonder if the old saying works retroactively?" I mused, reaching for the silverware. I got a surprise when I felt a sharp prick on my fingertips. "We were having such a good day," I said, to no one in particular as she left the room to get the rest of my meal. Piper had switched the order of my silverware on my tray.

By now, Auggie was probably finishing his "appetizer" as he liked to call it. It had been difficult not to respond to his playful demeanor, my only reprieve from the monotonous duties I needed to perform during the day. I again felt the need to thank Joan for assigning me to this candy striper status. Making my way back to Auggie's room, I rearrange his plate, the cafeteria workers having put his packets of butter in the space for his drink, his carton of milk threatening to topple over. This sort of thing summed up the extent of my duties: making sure that patients were fed, alerting doctors and nurses in emergency cases, basically, the gopher of this wing. The rest of my day was spent doing my real job. The job that I was sent here to perform. To protect Auggie from an attacker that only he could recognize.

"_So...you're sending me to Charleston, to pose as a nurse, to protect a member of the special forces?" I demanded, unable to hide my skepticism. Joan didn't look up from the file she was browsing, lips pursed. _

"_How do you look in riding boots?" she asked. I rolled my eyes. Now she decided to have a sense of humor. It wasn't lost on me that we were having this conversation while wearing 200-dollar heels. Joan looked up, her eyebrows rising as she thrust the folder in my face. "I think you may have an invested interest on this assignment," she replied dismissively. Biting back a retort, I turned on my heel, wondering what such a statement could mean. I tucked the folder under my arm as I made my way over to the vending machine, having forgone breakfast. As the machine groaned to life, matching my mood, I opened the folder, expecting to see someone who had been in this line of work for much longer than I had been-a bearded, balding man perhaps. Someone with a body and mind that has been worn down by countless missions. The man in the photo did not-and would never-fit that description. _  
_I held back a gasp as Auggie Anderson's face loomed before my eyes, with his confident grin and unusually expressive eyes. Scanning the summary of his case, my training took over. A faceless traitor had been inside his last mission, and felt that Auggie was a loose end. My mind started to race, the words blurring as I read. These basic facts, I already knew. What scared me more was the fact that this person, this "friend" was chasing after a man who didn't know that he should be running. Friends are impulsive, which makes for misguided and sloppy judgment. Judgment that I hope, would give me a target. _

I pressed the call button in rapid, annoyed succession-in no way tied to my own present boredom. Where was nurse Piper?  
BANG.  
The door slammed open, the flurry of clicking heels stopping short in the doorway.

"Mr. Anderson, are you alright?" There, in her distraction, her southern roots began to show. Her practiced twang was even more pronounced than normal. She was at my side in a moment, and after having put my plate on my window seat, she began a quick inspection. "Are you in any pain?" she asked urgently. Her hand brushed my forehead and cheek, and I caught it with my own.

"Just hunger pains. I was beginning to think that you'd forgotten me." Without thinking, I had pulled her hand to my chest.  
My fingers now slipped to her wrist, puzzled by the still quickened pace of her pulse. Pipers fingers tightened for a brief second in surprise. I turned my head, my chin now resting on the tops of her knuckles. I realized my mistake.

"Piper, I-"

"You, Mr. Anderson, need to shave." she said simply, as I set my hand on the tray, my thumb brushing the plate. For once, I was happy to be too occupied to speak. I heard the light popping sound of my straw tearing the foil of my milk carton. Piper placed it on my tray, leaning forward as she did so. "Remember Auggie, we don't use the call button just because you miss me." This time, it was her turn to be playful. In lieu of giving her a reaction, I sat quietly eating my meal. The door closed, and she was gone.


	2. Chapter 2: A Little Less Darkness

**Hey guys! Thank you SO much for following and reviewing, please keep them coming! We really appreciate it! :) **

**Enjoy! **

Chapter Two: A Little Less Darkness

I flipped through the radio stations, impatiently waiting for the light to go green. My feet were sore, and my shoulders ached. Rolling down my windows, I tried to rid the smell of vomit from the car. A five year old had come in this afternoon with the flu—I gave him a basin, and his missed his mark by inches. It was the third time this week that I'd been covered with a person's bodily fluids and I wondered for the thousandth time how this job—washing trays, checking temperatures, and being everyone's personal vomit sponge—would be at all useful to the one person that I'd come to protect?

Auggie's made so much progress in such a short amount of time, I knew that this mission was going to be harder once he realized who I was. It was very easy to separate myself from him, and selfishly, I was glad for it. If I was someone else, I didn't have to worry—at least for a short while—about his safety. He was just another civilian, part of another mission. I would do what I needed to do, and would approach things with sense, and clarity. And in spite of all of that I could still revel in his smile, his jokes—sometimes at my own expense—and enjoy the fact that I was with him. I shook my head, feeling my cheeks warm. I couldn't afford to think like that. It'd become too easy to lose myself, and the control over my feelings in this shamble of a performance. I often wondered how he _couldn't _recognize me. Did my horrible Dolly Parton-esque twang really throw him off? But it wasn't as if I thought Auggie had somehow forgotten about me. Far from it. Auggie couldn't seem to stop talking about this friend he used to work with.

As we had taken our walk today, I'd thought that Auggie had been right to come here. The peaceful nature of the place was apparent. The hospital had once been an old plantation, made of fading red brick. It was impressive, standing proud and grand, despite its age, and Auggie never wanted to miss an opportunity to walk around it's well kept garden paths, scattered with trees and flowers. We'd been walking in a contented silence, when Auggie suddenly smirked. "Those heels," he said. "I didn't think they were part of the uniform," I'd wondered for a moment if he was trying to show off with his acute hearing again—he often did that, picking out faraway sounds, with a satisfied smile on his face. There was a pause. "Well, I never said that I was a comedian," he said sheepishly, "I actually like it. It's almost…comforting." An odd sadness crossed his features for a moment, but then he shook his head and smiled. "I had this friend who never seemed to wear any other kind of shoe. But I'd hear it, and feel…like home. She and I would travel together, and more often than not, find ourselves in some very…unwelcoming places. There was this one time, where some muggers had stolen her purse. We'd tried to chase the men down, my friend going further ahead trying to get the man that stole her purse. I'm guessing the other wanted my phone, but couldn't get it from me, so he pushed me to the ground." His jaw clenched, the memory frustrating him. All of a sudden, I remembered what he was referring to. Our assignment was to retrieve a flash-drive, posing as honeymooners in a foreign country. Our target had escaped, leading us to chase him down a fire escape…and Auggie had taken a hard fall…

"What did you do?" I asked through numb lips, trying to keep my tone even. Somehow Auggie laughed to himself.

"There wasn't much to do really. She must have thought that punches were being thrown, or that I was hurt and raced back to me, letting the men go." He shrugged. "And the minute I heard those heels coming back, I knew that everything was going to be alright." I couldn't hide my smile as we walked, the sun warming my already reddened face. "She never was good at following directions, I'll say that much," Auggie quipped suddenly, and I looked at him in surprise.

"I never took you for being a chauvinist Mr. Anderson. " I retorted playfully, and Auggie laughed, shaking his head.

"No…if that woman could run in those heels, I knew she could do anything." The muscles in Auggie's face tightened for a moment, and his fingers—which were wrapped around the crook of my elbow—became rigid. He cleared his throat. "Damn, it's bright out." He said gruffly. I couldn't help but laugh as he moved his free hand jokingly over his eyes. Suddenly, he stopped, waving his hand over his face again, slowly, his face full of wonder. Auggie burst into laughter, his shoulders shaking. He let go of my arm, racing ahead of me, stumbling as he went, as if he were a child going to explore.

"Auggie!" I barked, running towards him as he somehow managed to find a bench further up the path. He roughly went to sit, without realizing that the bench had no back, and tumbled backwards to the ground.

"What did you do that for?" I demanded breathlessly, reaching for his arm, but he just rolled over, grinning at me.

"This is what happens when the blind guy gets too confident," he said. He waved a hand at me. "A little help here?"

"What the hell were you trying to do?" Auggie sighed, lying back again.

"So…that wasn't a bench," he mused. "I'll figure this out eventually."

"Well—it—it was! How did you know?" I asked haltingly.

I remembered laughing, swatting the dirt off his clothes as I righted him onto the bench. I couldn't forget the utter joy that sounded in Auggie's voice when he told me he could see light and shadow. He'd seen the darkness of the bench against the sunlight, and had confused a sign's shadow behind it as the bench's back. As amazing as the news was, and as happy as I was for him, I knew that things would be more and more difficult from now on. Auggie was truly regaining his sight and there would be no hiding from him once he did.

The shrill buzz of my door ripped me from those thoughts as I entered my apartment building. A tenant nodded to me as I passed him on my way up the stairs, his eyes locked on the various stains and splotches on my uniform. A long, hot shower was what I needed before plunging into the stack of files I had tucked into my purse. Previous employers, records, even overheard gossip was included in these folders. I couldn't deny that Joan was incredibly thorough. I needed to get my head together. With a faceless traitor coming in for the kill, I couldn't afford to have any type of distraction. I looked into my purse, the files almost leering at me. I grimaced, stepping through my apartment door.

It was going to be a long night.


	3. Chapter 3: Old Wounds

**Thank you to everyone for your patience! Things have been a bit crazy, but we FINALLY got a chance to sit down and write! Our next part should be coming much sooner than this part has, so please keep reading! We are so grateful for your support and excitement for the story! Enjoy! :) **

** -Jay and Bee**

**_Chapter 3: Old Wounds_**

I took another sip of my coffee, ready to scroll through the pictures again. I glanced through the employee lounge window, reminding myself for the umpteenth time that the staff for the night shift hadn't clocked out yet. I'd have at least a few more minutes to myself before the flow of exhausted nurses and doctors and fellows would sweep through the doors. I'd spent the greater part of the night pawing through my files of suspects.

I frowned as I went through my list. There are so many people, it was an incredibly daunting task. I had somehow managed to narrow down the vast amount of suspects to select groups of people. There were members of the Special Forces, with their steely eyes and mouths in hard, serious lines. I couldn't help but roll my eyes as the members of Auggie's harem came into view-most of which never knew his name. What's worse than a scorned ex-girlfriend, I thought ruefully, than an ex-girlfriend with a gun?

I scrolled past them quickly, only to stop at the one person I prayed I would not have to go up against. I had been happy that he was alive. At the same time, I was shattered by the fact that he'd been named a suspect-a traitor-once again. It was only when I had gotten his file that I learned about his convenient arrival to the hospital in order to receive care for his should-have-been fatal injuries. His decision to run from Langley has made him the enemy. Simon's picture loomed before me, his neutral stare causing my fingers to become curled tightly around my phone, my heart beating quicker than I would have liked. Shutting my eyes, I put my phone in my lap, kneading my temples with my fingers. My groan of frustration matched in pitch with the overworked coffee maker as the hospital staff began to filter in the room, some wiping sleep out of their eyes or sighing in relief, finally free to go home. With a quick swipe of my finger, the pictures disappeared. Heaving my weary body off the couch, I made my exit quickly, ready to start my rounds.

Heading briskly for Auggie's room, I tried to clear my mind. Simon had chosen nomadic lifestyle over me, I reminded myself firmly. I tried to convince myself that his decision clearly showed what he wanted, and it certainly wasn't me. My only option was to put my energy into those that did.

I walked through the door, about to say hello, when the greeting died on my lips. Where was he? Running a hand through my hair, I swept out of the room, heading for the patient's lounge. The sound of a news report reached my ears and I quickened my pace, hearing the quiet chatter of the patients just around the corner. I opened the door to the lounge, only taking in for a moment the various games of cards that were going on, and those that were just finishing their breakfast. It was Auggie's laugh that registered with me, and turning my head towards the sound, my sense of urgency reached new heights. There, sitting companionably next to Auggie, with a small grin playing on his lips, was Simon, the pair headlong into conversation. Annie could only hope that that their conversation was as innocent as it looked. Auggie cracked a joke and Simon chuckled quietly to himself, the sound in stark contrast to Auggie's full, boisterous laugh. I steeled myself as I made my way over to them.

"I see you made a friend." I remarked lightly. "Any chance that I could pull you away? I figured we both could do with a cup of coffee."

"Are you jealous?" Auggie teased. "I would think that you'd be much prettier than he is." I tried not to look at Simon's deductive expression. I'd have to explain my presence later. These new comrades could prove troublesome if I wasn't careful.

"Well, I guess you don't have to come," I replied dismissively, shrugging my shoulders. "If you found your way here this easily, I'm sure you can find your way back without my help." I turned to leave, and heard Auggie fumbling around for his cane. Pivoting slightly, I saw him stand, and hold his hand out, ready to take my arm.

"The coffee will suck, but the company will make up for it-if you'll still have me." He smiled broadly as I placed his hand in the crook of my elbow. I gave a noncommittal nod to Simon. Unnerved, I was again forced to accept that sometimes, it could be possible that the people we love most could want us dead. I took a deep breath, secured Auggie's hand on my arm and swept him out of the room.

"So our five-star kitchen staff screwed up my meal...again." Auggie remarked wryly, taking another sip of his coffee. I rolled my eyes, giving a mock groan.

"Don't tell me-you put a straw in your meatloaf." He chuckled.

"You're not far off-I put Ketchup in my iced tea." My mouth twisted in distaste, though I couldn't help but laugh.

"You'd think in a place teeming with brain cells, that people would have a few." After a few moments, I glanced at him, smirking. "Sorry I interrupted your budding bromance earlier,"

"If you'd only given us a few more minutes, I would have had a new roommate." he retorted playfully. After a beat, "You have nothing to worry about," he told me, suddenly serious. My cheeks became hot, and my throat tightened. Auggie had already gone back to his coffee when I managed to respond.

"You know, you're blurring the lines of our medical relationship." The words burned as I uttered them. Auggie's brows rose, and the corners of his mouth twitched.

"Well, everything's blurry with me." A strangled laugh escaped my throat, and I sputtered,

"Just shut up and drink your coffee."


	4. Chapter 3: Old Wounds, Part 2

**Chapter 3: Old Wounds, Part 2**

We'd fallen into a comfortable silence, but being a blind guy, I didn't have many other options. Piper flipped another page of the newspaper, having finished her cup of coffee long before I did. I'd run out of things to talk about, and fiddling with my cane I turned to her.

"I'm clearly enthralling company if you're choosing to read the paper—sorry about that." Piper laughed quietly, and a rustle of paper sounded again.

"Would you like me to read it to you?" she asked, and I shrugged.

"As much as I enjoy your lovely voice, I think I'd like to try it on my own," There was a moment of silence, and I drummed my fingers on the table.

"Still there?" I asked, trying to keep my voice playful. Piper let out a small chuckle.

"I'm not sure that the obituaries make for a very interesting read but you're more than welcome to try. These are probably the most predictable articles, so picking things out might not be too difficult" She replied offhandedly. Sliding the paper towards me, I took it with eager hands—only to see a gray blob in front of my face. I practically had to eat it to try and make out what I thought was the date. Frustration bubbled in the pit of my stomach and I grit my teeth. Putting the paper down I took a deep breath.

"That's alright." Piper said kindly. "This is going to be a slow process, but you really have been doing well." Suddenly, Piper had moved from her spot across from me to the seat on my left. She placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. "What are we looking for?" she her tone bright.

"An old friend," I answered simply.

"Name?"

"Jai Wilcox."

There was a beat before Piper could find his name. She started to read the homage that was created by Langley, her voice fading into the background as I began to remember old ghosts. Ghosts that weren't dead. I was being haunted as recently as last night.

It was the thud of boots across the floor that startled me. Combat boots, thick and heavy, starkly different to the sharp, clipped sounds of nurses shoes that I'd become so accustomed to. Visiting hours were long over, and as the sound grew louder, my mind whirled with the possibilities of whom it could be. My instincts kicked in. My hand darted beneath my pillow and pulled out the gun. I held firm, pointing the gun in the direction of the door, the knob sounding quietly as it turned.

"Who's there?" I growled.

"People don't usually check themselves into hospitals voluntarily Auggie. Were things worse than what I was hearing?" Her tone was warm, oddly so for someone with such a thick, Russian accent. It could only be Natasha.

"As far as I know, everything went fine. Another nice gold star on my homework before I left." I answered wryly, placing the gun carefully back under my pillow. "Why have you come out of hiding? What have you heard?"

Natasha sighed.

"You know how this began. We were on our government-sanctioned honeymoon to Russia—"

"Who honeymoons in Russia?" I mused. Someone really needed to talk to the people that set up our covers.

"—with our lovely tour guide, Dominika. She was the one who witnessed our fights, and it wasn't long before she was consoling you through our many arguments—"

"While you were back at her apartment trying to find blackmail, to make her our newest asset." I finished.

"It would have worked if you both hadn't come back to her apartment!"

"It would have worked if you could improvise!" I retorted, bristling.

"This should make it up to you darling," As she went for my surprise, she asked, "Do you remember our chef on that trip?"

**Who knew Natasha could cook? Keep reading to see how this meeting unfolds! This is short, but we hope you enjoyed it! Next part should come soon! Comments and questions are always appreciated! **

**Beth-Geek Chick: Thanks so much for your question! Initially, we weren't sure if we wanted to let readers know who Piper was—wanting you all to be as surprised as Auggie would be! We originally wanted the readers to discover things at Auggie's pace, but we decided it was much too difficult to write for a faceless person that would end up being so close with Auggie. We wanted to let you in on Annie's view of her mission, and she calls herself Piper to distance herself from Auggie and vice-versa so that she is able to remain free of emotional entanglements while she's got a job to do—though with someone as charming as Auggie, that's proving to be difficult! Hope that helps! **


	5. Chapter 4: Deception and Detection

**Chapter 4: Deception and Detection**

******Hi readers! Thank you all so much for waiting! We hope you enjoy our next chapter, and any/all reviews or questions would be greatly appreciated! **

**-Jay and Bee**

_"What does that have to do with anything?" I asked her, baffled. Natasha gave a low laugh. I felt something light land into my lap. Removing its lid, my brows furrowed. _  
_"Leftover lasagna?"_

I chuckled as I came back to reality.

"You went away for a bit there," Piper remarked gently. "Thinking about that girl I caught you with last night?" There was the smallest hint of disdain in her voice, and I couldn't help but grin.

"She's been in my bed but you've seen me naked," I retorted slyly. Piper cleared her throat, and I heard soft sound of her lab coat shifting as she ran a hand through her hair.  
"I've seen better." She managed to quip, and I broke into laughter. There was a crinkle of newspaper again as she folded it, and placed it in front of me, and her chair sounded as she stood up.  
"Going so soon? I'm not running you off am I?" I wondered, smiling sheepishly.  
"I've got important business to attend to—lots and lots of bedpans." Annie replied in distaste.

**************************************************************************

507...507...507...

I took another deep breath as I made my way down the corridor to Simon's room. I've dealt with plenty of stalkers in my time, but none that would get themselves shot and put in a hospital to be closer to me-or my mission, to be more exact. But in that, what could he possibly want? Causing bodily harm to Auggie wouldn't be possible for Simon in his state, but what did he know? And what could he do once he recovers?  
507. I stepped into his room, and let out a sigh. He wasn't there. His sheets were still rumpled, the remains of his breakfast tray were still on his removable table, and his linen drawer was left open. According to his chart, I didn't have much time to search before he'd come in from his shower, so I worked fast. Digging my hands into drawers, sheets, any sort of surface that would hide clues to the reasons behind his intentions. I finally made my way back to his bed, cramming my hands underneath his mattress when I heard a low chuckle.  
"Find anything interesting?"  
I swallowed. Whipping his bed covers into place, I smiled easily.  
"Just tucking the sheets in," I said, falsely bright as I turned to face Simon. Hair still wet and clad in a robe (if you could call it that, with its flimsy fabric) Simon slowly made his way over to his set of drawers, grimacing a little as he went. He moved to the other side of his bed with a bundle of clothes in hand. Before yanking the curtains around himself, he flashed me a small grin. I looked away quickly, biting the insides of my cheeks hard while fixing the rest of his bed, hearing the bathroom door close with a click. I got up quickly, and smoothed my hair, eyes flitting from the bed curtains to the door to the hall. I couldn't exactly leave now. I gave one last look around the room and quickly flitted to the chair next to his bed when I heard the curtains rustle and open.  
"Still here?" Simon asked gruffly, that cheeky smile still plastered to his face.  
"Just checking to be sure that my patient gets safely into his bed-wouldn't want you to slip and fall now would I?"  
Simon snorted and pushed himself into his bed, shaking his head as I stood up to assist him.  
"I see you climbed the corporate ladder to become a candy striper. Bravo." he said dryly. I shot him a dark look as I adjusted his blankets around him.  
"I see you've gone through a lot of trouble to only find yourself back in Langley's sights-clearly faking your own death wasn't the best option." Simon didn't answer. I hedged my bets, and leaned towards his ear. "She's dead, you know. Lena." Simon's eyes widened, his mouth opening in surprise. I walked over to the window and opened the shades.  
"How?" He managed to bark out, and I turned to look at him, leaning against the windowsill.  
"Did you honestly think we wouldn't get to her?" I asked him coolly. He looked away from me, staring hard ahead of him. There was a moment of silence. I pushed myself off the sil and slowly made my way back to the bed. "Really Simon. Getting yourself shot and landed in this hospital, for what? What were you trying to do?"  
Simon looked at me, his eyes completely devoid of the warmth that I once knew.  
"I've come back for someone, and I hope you can forgive me when this is all over." ****

**More of Simon! Tune in next time to get a clearer picture of his motives: will he be a danger to Auggie or Annie? Keep reading to find out! Next chapter will be up soon! **


	6. Chapter 5: A Volatile Situation

**This is what happens when Jay gets bored: awesome happens! If I (Bee) flailed reading it, we both hope you guys will too! Thanks so much for the reviews so far, please keep them coming! New chapters should come soon! Enjoy! **

** -Jay and Bee**

Chapter 5: A Volatile Situation

_Clink clink, creeek_, I have been staring at this tin while I tossed in bed for over an hour. How could a man with no visitors get outside food? Why would he want it? I know hospital food is horrible; but really cheap lasagna is better?

_Ring!_ The phone knocked me to my feet, the tin forgotten.

"We need you in early. Auggie is sick and Simon is gone." Joan clipped.

I arrived at the hospital minutes after I dropped the phone, not even bothering to hang up. The scene before me could not be sufficiently described with every word I knew in any language.

"I failed," I croaked in utter horror. My best friend lay in a fetal position on his bed unable to talk through his pain. I collected myself enough to join in searching the room. Nothing looked out of place from where I left it the night prior, other than the things that had been tossed around by the other agents who'd scrambled around the room, alongside me. "What is that smell?!" I followed the offensive odor to the wastebasket and lasagna, in the wrong place, on his tray.

Hours pass before the nausea subsides and my speech returns, the sound of retreating footsteps echoing down the hallway as certain as a mirage. I can hear Piper's uneasy stride on the tile floor. When she passes the window I can make out the outline of her petite frame. "You will dig a hole in the floor with those heels." I said roughly, moving gingerly as I tried to right my position on the bed. She stops and turns, I assume to glare at me.

"Only you would find the strength to be making an asinine remark." Piper's shadowy form seemed to shift, creating an oddly similar pose than an ex girlfriend used to make when I'd clearly done something wrong. The sharp quip was blunted by her gentle touch as she eased me up, allowing me to sit, before helping back against my pillows. The banter is encouraging but something in her pitch rings of stress and self-doubt.

"Lucky I got sick in here, right?" I try again. She ignores it.

"Where did this come from?" The tray taps the table.

"My friend the other night, she is not the best cook I guess." She chuckles unconvincingly, and I feel a cool cloth brushing against my forehead, then my cheeks.

"Does she live locally?" Piper asked, her voice forcibly calm.

"Not that I know." This line of questions has my pulse racing. "Should I know something?" The cloth was moving over my neck now, and down towards my shoulder when I felt Piper start slightly.

"I'll be right back," she mumbles. I suddenly feel the washcloth land on my breastplate. I grasped it confusedly only to hear the familiar c_lick,_ _click._ She is out the door with alarming speed.

My legs could not get me to a phone fast enough. "I might have a lead."

Once they find he is still alive someone will be here to try again. But who can I expect this time? Simon's cover is blown and the mystery woman is long gone. The possibilities are walking the same halls I am.


	7. Chapter 6: A Child At Prayer

_Ding…ding…ding…_

The peal of the elevator as it rang for each floor sounded like death tolls to my ears, which seemed appropriate considering what happened to Auggie. What I let happen. His face loomed before my eyes again, his form pinched with pain, and covered in sweat, shaking uncontrollably. I tried to wipe the image from my mind with another sip of my coffee, much too bitter as it scalded my tongue.

I could picture Joan's face, her steely blue-gray eyes glinting and a scowl on her lips. As the elevator doors opened I realized it wasn't a picture at all. There she was, hands on her hips, looking murderous. Averting my eyes from her icy glare I stepped out of the elevator and made my way towards her office.

"I'm surprised you remember where to go," she said, forcibly calm. The mounting clicks of our heels filled my ears. "Have you gotten any of my messages?"

"Only trying to figure out what happened—then there was a lead, and now I'm here." I shut her office door behind us, my voice devoid of conviction. I closed my eyes, desperately trying to think. There didn't seem to be enough air in the room. I opened my mouth to speak but Joan immediately cut me off.

"You went off the grid, keeping me in the dark by ignoring protocol and risking your job! Do you have any concept of the precariousness of this situation for the both of us?" Finally seeming to grasp what was happening, my body immediately reacted to Joan's demeanor, forcing every one of my tightened muscles (as if they had been bracing for impact) to go limp. Her questions kept coming, venomous and biting, but it was as if I were underwater, all the sound in the room faded as my eyes filled with tears. Joan strode around her desk, resting her palms against the table. Her face was pale with rage, though it was slowly shifting to an ultimately looking of betrayal. Grasping for the chair in front of her desk, my breaths coming in heaves, I made a motion to sit, and just sank to my knees, clutching the chair for all I was worth, shaking with sobs. I couldn't move. I couldn't think. Waves of guilt, fear, anger and utter helplessness crashed over me, and I wanted more than anything else to just let it go. I moved to look at Joan, who had crouched before me, her skirts pulled over her knees, and I rested my forehead in the soft fabric of her hem, completely spent.

This calm, determined, headstrong woman had been reduced to a child at prayer pleading to be saved from her own mistakes. The Annie that was constantly finding a way, always fighting, always trying, was completely foreign to the one I saw before me. It wasn't as if the problem in front of us could not be solved, it was just a question of how to do it. How could I let Annie continue with this internal battle, only to watch her destroy herself and the man that she loves? And I'd go with her. I could try and save us both by trying to wage this war for her, but what would that do? A soldier of one does not an effective crusade make.

Annie's cries had begun to quiet. She shut her eyes. I, biting a nervous lip, moved a lock of hair away from her face, making the dark circles under her eyes even more visible. We sat in this way for a little while, neither one of us felt the need to say a word. I almost believed Annie had drifted off to sleep she was so still. The sudden ringing of the phone jerked me from my thoughts. I picked it up quickly.

"Where's Annie?" Auggie clipped. The still form on my lap opened her eyes, her head slowly tilting back to look at the phone, her expression completely incredulous. She blinked, and suddenly reached for the phone, the color rising in her cheeks. She needed to reassure herself that he was all right. I watched her speak to him, her voice low and trembling at first, but slowly the resolve crept back into her features. She made the choice for me. But she wouldn't be alone. I'd help her achieve her repentance.


End file.
